


Blueballs, Golden Boy, and The Flower

by fulmiinata



Category: Free!
Genre: Football, Gen, Implied Maruka, OC POV, Semi-Crack, Some coarse language, Well lovable-ish idk I tried, aka teenage boys being themselves, psst Makoto is a fabulous athlete js
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fulmiinata/pseuds/fulmiinata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which, Makoto is completely wasting his athletic potential, but at least he's "getting some".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blueballs, Golden Boy, and The Flower

**Author's Note:**

> Also from marukaprompts, if you haven't checked it out PLEASE DO ^.^
> 
> "Makoto's really good at all kinds of sports and when they do football in PE the teacher always asks him why he doesn't join the team, while Haru sucks at everything because why participate when he could be doing something in the water instead."
> 
> And yes, this is from an OC's POV.

Kagome Izanagi liked to think he wasn’t an idiot. No, he knew he wasn’t an idiot — that number 4 spot on the class ranking wasn’t just there for funsies, it meant something. He had to work his _ass off_ to get that A minus average, and then some to keep it. That, on top of being the only sane player on his championship-winning, sissy-crushing, _varsity_ football team and therefore the very glue that kept them from eating each other was enough to prove that, no, Kagome Izanagi was not an idiot.

Tachibana Makoto, however, _was_ an idiot — a pretty big one, too. Guy was six feet and 186 pounds of pure muscle, and he was wasting his time splashing around a pool with his bff Nanase and that girly kid who was halfway to jumping that one track nerd. Who did that, just _waste_ potential? Fucking idiots like Tachibana, apparently, The whole ordeal was goddamn infuriating; it _physically hurt_ Izanagi to watch Tachibana practically stride into the end zone day after day of PE during their football unit knowing that he wasn’t putting that talent to good use. More than once he’d asked about whether or not he was interested in joining the team, because Tachibana would _at least_ make JV. And that was if he pussy-footed through the whole tryout.

Tch, whatever. Today was another opportunity — maybe he’d finally convince Tachibana to at least try out. Baby steps. Izanagi pulled his gym clothes out of his locker, wrinkling his nose slightly at the stench. Ugh, he’d have to take them home today to wash. He changed quickly, sitting down on the locker room benches when he was done to wait for his friends.

“Leave your vaginas at home next time, wontcha? God, my _mom_ takes less time than you guys to get ready.” he said once Fujiyoshi and Watanabe finally sauntered up. They laughed, Watanabe giving him a punch in the shoulder.

“Whatever, douchebag,” sneered Fujiyoshi. “Just cos I don’t wanna look stupid in front of those chicks. You’ve seen Ayano in those shorts, right?”

“Quit ‘cher lustin’,” Watanabe slung on the standard green track jacket. He began to stroll down to the door out of the locker room. “Girls don’t like it when they know yer a horndog.”

Izanagi guffawed at the dirty look Fujiyoshi gave Watanabe, slapping them both on the back before leaving. Instead of waiting around in the gym he headed straight for the field, already relishing in the smell of turf and fall air. Oh yes, he and field were old friends, and the start of football season every year was like seeing those cousins that lived across the country but you always kept in touch and made promises to visit each other with.

Slowly, the rest of the class trickled out, and it was easy to tell who was excited and who wasn’t to play today. Naturally, anyone who was on any of the teams, from Varsity to C-team, had that excited glint in their eye, while most of the girls and some of the scrawnier kids (plus Nanase) had either a dreadful look or just a general disinterested expression. But Izanagi didn’t give a shit about them; his eyes slid over to where Tachibana was standing, all smiles. Kid was always like that during PE, unless that was just his face? That would kind of suck, looking like that all the time — people would approach you and shit.

Not that, Tachibana was _ugly_ or anything, either. Izanagi wasn’t completely sure the guy was aware of how many girls chased after him, or he’d ever looked in a mirror. Cheekbones like his weren’t granted to just anyone—

Ahem. No homo.

Higa-sensei, also known as just ‘Coach’ to the majority of the school regardless of whether or not they played sports, commanded the students to line up, girls on one end, boys on the other. He deemed them either yellow or red, in reference to what color flag belt they would have to wear.

“Makoto. Red. Haruka. Yellow.”

That’s what you get for standing next to each other, thought Izanagi, seeing Makoto’s dejected face. Everyone knew that you had to have someone between you and your friend if you wanted to be on the same team.

“Izanagi. Red.”

_Fuck yeah, I got Tachibana today._ A small smile crept onto Izanagi’s face, and he allowed himself a small fist pump.

“Come _on!_ I got fucking _Nanase_?!” cried Fujiyoshi, his face contorted into utter disbelief. Nanase was notoriously bad at any of the units in PE, often just spacing out or not even trying. The only thing he wasn’t totally shit at was when they ran laps for warm-ups, but that was probably because the guy had lungs the size of a whale’s.

“Prepare to lose,” Izanagi fastened the clip on the flag belt, making sure it fit snugly around his hips. Not that it would matter, because _nobody_ was laying a finger on his flags. They fluttered slightly in the breeze, and Izanagi thought it made him look even more impressive.

The girls went to the other side of the field, leaving the boys to do their own thing. Good, because when girls played they either got violent or squealy — Izanagi did _not_ need another kick to the nads or blown eardrum.

“Quarterback,” Izanagi claimed. His position was almost an unspoken agreement — why deny the Varsity captain his own position? He stood behind some guy he knew from the JV team — what was his name? It was along the lines of something-maru — and waited for everyone else to line up. A bunch of yellow team’s guys were already in position.

Fujiyoshi caught his eye, giving him that competitive squint that said ‘You better hold on motherfucker cause I’m gonna destroy you’, and Izanagi returned it just fine, accompanying his with a smirk because with Tachibana Makoto — basically the epitome of a golden boy — on his side, there was no way they were gonna lose.

* * *

“Hike!” Izanagi caught the ball firmly with both hands, immediately scanning over his scattered teammates to find who was either closest or wide open. Unfortunately, Yellow Team had their shit surprisingly together, and they were all over Red Team.

_I should probably recruit some of these guys to be linebackers._

“Izanagi!” came the yell. It was oriented to the right, just a breath away from the end zone if Izanagi’s judgement was correct. His head snapped in the voice’s direction — _thank god_ it was Tachibana. He was waving his arms around, towering over the scrawny brunette who was trying to block him. “Izanagi, over here!”

Making sure his grip on the ball was just right, Izanagi pulled his arm back, ready for the perfect throw—

Someone slammed into his side.

“ _Fucker_ —!” the ball slid out of his grasp, the throw completely off. Izanagi widened his eyes in horror as he watched it torpedo not to the right, but the left, spinning right towards Nanase—

And landing almost softly into the guy’s arms. For reason A or B Nanase Haruka’s arms had been positioned just right for the ball to land in, but judging from how he was looking at it, catching the ball had not been his intention. He stared at it blankly.

“Nanase you fucking virginal flower, throw it over here!” Fujiyoshi’s booming yell was not hard to mistake, easily it rang throughout the crowd of boys and even the squealing crowd of girls not too far away.

Nanase just continued to stare at it, until finally turning his head to where Tachibana was standing, watching in awe. “Makoto,” he said. “Here.” He tossed it lightly over to him, and Makoto caught it with ease.

“Goddammit!” Fujiyoshi sounded like he was very close to spontaneously combusting as he stormed over to Nanase, roughly grabbing the front of his shirt and bringing him closer to his face.

“What the fuck did you just do?! Tachibana’s not even on our fucking team, holy _shit_ —”

A snort made it’s way up Izanagi’s throat, and he put forth no effort to suppress it. It was followed by another, then another, until he was practically overcome with laughter. It wasn’t even that he was laughing at Fujiyoshi’s rage, which was pretty damn funny, but that Nanase was so out of it that he almost literally handed over the ball to the offense, and that in the past five seconds Tachibana had just made a touchdown behind everyone’s back.

“Hey, Fujiyoshi!”

The guy in question turned to face his addressor, still looking furious. He all but threw Nanase out of his grasp and stormed over to Izanagi. “What.”

“TOUCHDOWN! WE WIN, _BITCH!”_

“Hey, you know what? Fuck you and your dumbass team and your dumbass golden boy—”

_peet._

“Everyone head inside! Class is over for today,” said Coach, waving off the teens with his clipboard.

Mouth still stretched into a smile from their meaningless PE-football-game win, Izanagi obeyed, making sure to lag behind just a bit so he could catch Tachibana. Sure enough, he was helping bring in the mesh bag that held all the flag belts and the footballs. Normally, that alone would have made Izanagi roll his eyes, because Tachibana was too nice, but he was too busy admiring the fact that Tachibana was helping bring in the mesh bag that held all the flag belts and footballs with one hand — far as he knew, that shit actually _heavy_.

He had to recruit him this season, one way or another.

“Hey, Tachibana,” said Izanagi, making sure his smile came off as pleasant and not creepy.

“Izanagi! That was a really good throw you made earlier,” replied the taller teen. He was smiling too, and unlike Izanagi’s his seemed effortless.

“Thanks. Listen, I know talent when I see it, and hot _damn_ Tachibana, you are oozing with it. Quit wasting your time on that dinky swim club; come try out for football this year instead. You’d be an all-star, a spot is practically guaranteed for you on the team.” Izanagi slid a hand under his shirt, scratching at an annoying bug bite on his chest. His shoulder cracked a bit, reminding him that he didn’t really stretch properly beforehand and it was gonna be hell to pay later.

Makoto didn’t reply for a few seconds, he kind of just sighed as he put the bag down at the locker room entrance and walked over to his locker, Izanagi following. They weren’t in the same section (they were actually at opposite ends), but Izanagi was desperate to get an answer, preferably one that sounded more like ‘yes’ than ‘no’.

“Well?” Impatiently, Izanagi tapped his foot as Tachibana stripped off his gym shirt — which somehow didn’t smell how the hell did Tachibana do that — and shove it into his locker. One of Tachibana’s giant fucking hands reached up to scratch at the back of his neck showing those hella impressive back muscles like _holy fucking shit was that even possible—_

_AHEM_. No homo.

Halfway through buttoning his uniform shirt Tachibana finally answered, with that same smile still plastered on his unfairly nice face — _if you say anything about Izanagi’s sexuality he will eat you—_

“Sorry,” Tachibana shook his head, somehow managing to look ashamed and encouraging at the same time. “But you know I can’t do that, Izanagi. I’m the swim club captain, it would be terrible to just leave, and I don’t want to leave my friends either.”

Damn it.

“Now it’s yer turn to hurry, Kagome—”

“Makoto—”

Both teens turned around, seeing their friends waiting for them. Fujiyoshi and Watanabe had the remnants of laughter on their faces from something Izanagi didn’t know about, while Nanase looked at bored as ever.

“Makoto, come on.” His voice didn’t sound very insistent, in Izanagi’s opinion, but there must’ve been something there that he couldn’t hear, because Tachibana immediately started to change at a much quicker pace.

“Tryna get Tachibana to join the team again?” Watanabe smirked knowingly. “Ya know he can’t do that, Kagome, ‘specially not with Nanase always behind ‘im.”

“Yeah!” Fujiyoshi nudged Watanabe in the ribs, seemingly over his earlier rage — he was never one to hold a grudge, plus, he was an uber asshole when it came to football. “Nanase’s got him pretty whipped, eh?”

Tachibana buckled his pants with a good-natured laugh, then slung his backpack over his wide shoulder. He offered yet another one of those signature smiles, and, right as he walked past Izanagi to get to Nanase, leaned over just a teeny-weensy bit and whispered,

“At least I’m getting some.”

Izanagi’s jaw practically scraped across the floor. He tried to say something, think of some kind of clever comeback, but the shock was too great — at what Tachibana had just said to him and the fact that _Tachibana_ was the one that said it.

“Well that makes another one,” Fujiyoshi muttered, the corner of his lips twitching.

“Another what?”

“Another person who’s lost their V-card before Kagome over here.”  peals of laughter erupted from Fujiyoshi’s mouth, and he clutched his sides, practically doubled over.

In between cackles, Watanabe gasped, “Guess... Tachibana’s scored... more... touchdowns... than we thought!”

“Hey hey hey, Kagome, is it _-snort-_ is it cool if I started calling you Blueballs?”

“I swear to God, that if you even _think_ about calling me that ever, I’m dropping you to C-team.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty convinced Izanagi has a man-crush on Makoto. Not that I blame him.


End file.
